Fashion Statement
by andrhats
Summary: Link's clothes keep disappearing, and he has no idea why. Perhaps a certain Sheikah is involved?


**The Legend of Zelda, its characters locations all belong to Nintendo. Any and all OCs and original locations belong to me unless specifically stated to belong to someone else.**

* * *

 **Fashion Statement**

* * *

It had to be a burglar. Link couldn't see any other way for his collection of green tunics to just...disappear. One morning they were on the shelf in their wardrobe, the next they were gone, with no clues as to their whereabouts. Not even behind the hidden panel containing emergency supplies could they be found.

The laundry hamper was empty, and the woman who came by to collect it every few days had no idea where they could have gone, especially since she'd delivered them to their house just a few days prior.

A cursory search of their two-story house revealed nothing, and another more thorough one even less. By the time he passed by Sheik at the breakfast table for the fifth time, his lover saw fit to grab Link by the elbow and force him to sit down.

"They're just clothes, Link," Sheik said, sliding a few slices of bread smeared with a thick layer of honey in front of him before returning to his report, making it look effortlessly easy to eat and write at the same time, his hand moving in elegant loops and waves as he detailed the progress of his students at the academy. "I'm sure they'll turn up."

"They'd better," Link muttered sourly, biting into his food and fighting to contain the smile the sweet taste of honey invariably drew out of him, his mood lightening instantly. It was Sheik's secret weapon when Link had bad days. "It's bad enough they won't supply Kakariko with green dye anymore..."

"Business is business, unfortunately," Sheik said. "There simply wasn't enough of a demand for them to keep shipping it." He paused. "Speaking of which, the tailor informed me they're almost out."

That nearly made Link choke on his breakfast, and he had to take a big gulp of milk to wash it all down. "They're what?" he asked. "That's impossible! I brought back a crate from Termina just the other month!"

Sheik shrugged, eyes still focused on his report, biting gingerly into his apple in an infuriatingly calm manner. "Apparently there was something of an accident involving a cat? Most of the bottles broke, I'm afraid."

This day couldn't possibly get any worse, Link decided. At least he had two tunics left—those could last him a while if he just rotated and washed them often enough.

"You could always find a new colour, you know," Sheik suggested. "Bright green isn't the only one in the world, after all. Or a new style, even. I have some—"

"Wait!" Link announced, standing up abruptly. "I have an idea!"

"Oh?" Sheik raised an eyebrow calmly. "What is it?"

"I'll make my own! Grass is green, right?"

At some point later that day, after the monumental disaster that would be spoken of for years to come and referred to as _The Day the Hero of Hyrule Decided to Paint the Town Green_ , Link's mind would click into place and inform that he was acting quite irrationally in the face of a lack of green tunics in his life.

For the moment, however, it was quite treacherously informing him that it couldn't be _that_ difficult to make his own dye, right? That way, they could save on the costs! It was a genius plan!

He was too excited to hear Sheik's protests, and was too far gone to notice the quiet sigh his lover made as he was left alone at the table, and the muttered,

"Stage one, complete."

* * *

Sheik's chin rested gently on Link's shoulder as he joined the Hylian in looking into their shared wardrobe. Link's form was tight with tension, his breath almost hitching. The dark blue-and-white, form-fitting shirt he wore was very soft, though...

"What are we looking at?" Sheik asked tiredly, his breath ghosting over Link's cheek.

"My hats," Link managed to say between clenched teeth.

"What about them?"

"They're gone."

"Hm?"

Sheik took a long moment to gaze at the spot that, just the night before, Link knew had been occupied by his hats, made to look just like the ones he'd had when he lived among the Kokiri. He'd worn those hats while adventuring, while fighting Ganon...he almost felt naked without one on. And now, they were gone, and his lover was _not_ reacting properly to the fact that they had, for a second time, been robbed by a thief of clothes.

"So they are," the Sheikah finally said, his tone more curious than outraged, like it should have been. "Oh dear."

"How can you be so calm?" Link all but shrieked. "My hats! Gone!"

"Indeed, they are," Sheik said in agreement with his observation. "And as for my calm...well, perhaps someone saw them and decided they needed socks?"

"Someone broke into our house and stole my clothes! Twice!" Link wrenched himself away from the wardrobe and stomped around their bedroom, ignoring Sheik's longing look towards their still-warm bed. "That's your response?"

"I'm just thankful they left the silverware," Sheik said, already climbing back into bed and burrowing into a cocoon of warm blankets. "Come back to bed, Link..."

Link groaned with frustration and left the room. Sheik was absolutely useless in the mornings these days—half the time he had no idea what he was saying! Had this been five years ago, during the height of the war with Ganon, the Sheikah would have levelled half the village at this point, trying to find out who had broken into their house twice in succession.

No, evidently this was something he'd have to do on his own. Perhaps with the help of Eren and Nikal, Sheik's best students. They could surely sleuth up information on who had the audacity to break into their home.

"I'm going out!" he shouted upstairs, to which he received some half-mumbled response. He opened the door and stepped out, regretting it immediately as the strong wind that plagued Kakariko in the fall whipped his hair into his face, almost strangling him with it.

Stepping back inside, Link growled as he stomped back upstairs, ignoring his lover's muttered urges to come back to bed as he grabbed a pair of Sheik's hair sticks. He then sat down on the floor next to the bed, within reach of Sheik's hands. "I need you to put my hair up—it's windy outside."

Half-expecting Sheik to tell him to fuck off, he was surprised when the Sheikah's deft hands were suddenly on his head, grabbing handfuls of his hair and expertly putting it up in a bun, skewering it with the sticks to hold it in place and out of his face. If he took the opportunity to teasingly run a finger along the tip of Link's sensitive ears in the process, he didn't say anything to the Hero's sudden shiver.

"There you...go..." Sheik muttered as he finished, yawning mid-sentence. "Should hold."

"Thank you."

Link wasn't so upset that he forgot to give his lover a quick kiss before leaving. And it was surprisingly nice to wear his hair this way—the tip of his hat would usually flutter in the wind to an annoying degree.

Still, though, his hats had been kidnapped, and he needed to find them. Eren and Nikal would surely enjoy the outing as well, putting their new skills to use.

Once again he missed a chuckle from Sheik, muffled by his blankets, and the words,

"Stage two, complete."

* * *

"An accident during the wash?"

The washerwoman nodded sadly. "Yes, sir," she said. "The new girl...she used a much stronger soap than necessary, and was a bit too harsh with the board."

The pitiful, tattered remains of Link's tights lay in the burlap sack she'd brought to their doorstep. They were little else but shreds at this point—hardly retaining any shape or cut that implied they had once been articles of clothing.

Sheik nodded calmly, taking the sack from the woman and handing her the usual bag of rupees. It sounded a little... _clinkier_ than usual. Like it was fuller. "Tell her not to worry about it," he said. "It's more important for her to grow comfortable with her profession. Besides, we all make mistakes—it's what makes us mortal."

Link couldn't believe what he was hearing. He'd completely frozen with shock when the old woman had revealed the contents of the sack, all apologies and explanations, desperate not to anger the Hero. After a few moments of absolute silence, Sheik had appeared behind him and taken charge of the conversation.

"Thank you, sir," she said, nodding gratefully. "She will be relieved to hear that. Poor thing's hands have been shaking all day."

After she'd departed and Sheik had shut the door, Link slowly turned to stare at the red-eyed young man. "What. Was. That?" he ground out.

Sheik blinked, lips quirking under his mask in that perfectly innocent smile of his. "I believe that was the usual business transaction we have with Mrs. Meraz every week?" He worded it like a question, which was only more infuriating. "The same one we've had every week for the past three yea—"

"You paid her even though she ruined my clothes!"

And it was only _his_ clothes that had been so thoroughly destroyed. Sheik's outfits had been spared such treatment, looking as pristine and clean and _whole_ as usual.

" _She_ didn't ruin them," Sheik pointed out. "It was the new girl—and I think we're all allowed a few mistakes, don't you?"

"You paid her _more_ ," Link said. "I _heard_ the extra rupees."

"A small bonus, as an incentive not to let it happen again," Sheik said easily, resting a hand on Link's shoulder, his thumb rubbing along the stitching of the Sheikah eye emblazoned on his chest. "You catch more flies with honey than vinegar, after all."

"Why do you have to be so _reasonable_ all the time?!" Link said, shaking his head. The bun on his head bobbed slightly with the motion, reminding him that it needed to be tightened a bit. He wasn't about to ask Sheik to do it, though. He was still angry with him...for some unfathomable reason.

"My apologies," Sheik said, bowing his head slightly. "My upbringing did not allow for much showing of emotions, least of all outbursts. I suppose I'm just more accustomed to smooth things over than anything else. What good would yelling at her or withholding payment do? It would just create resentment."

"Well, yes, but..." Link's protest faded, as did his anger. Sheik was right, of course. Yelling at the old woman might have been satisfying for a moment or two, but it _would_ just create resentment between them, as the Sheikah said. And he quite _liked_ having a good professional relationship with the group who handled his clothing, which included his more _intimate_ garments...

"They're just clothes, Link," Sheik reminded him, pulling his mask down to place a kiss on the Hero's cheek. "They can be replaced."

"We have that ball tomorrow, though," Link said slowly, fighting the urge to pull Sheik against him...and then up against the wall...and then... "At the castle."

Sheik sighed happily as Link failed in his struggle, letting the Hero trap him in a corner he was more than happy to be in, feeling Link's lips nip at the skin just beneath his ear. "Oh, you need not worry about that," he said. "I have something you can borrow..."

Stage three complete.

* * *

Sheik felt a little awkward as he joined Zelda on the veranda overlooking the castle gardens. The invitation, delivered in the form of an annoyed-looking Impa knocking on the door of their guest room and informing him that the princess wanted to speak to him, had been unusually curt.

He'd spent a good minute worrying about his or Link's conduct at the ball the night before, but he could not for the life of him figure out what they (or he) had done to upset her. It did not help that Impa was standing just a few paces behind Zelda, his aunt's eyes quietly judging him for sleeping in.

"Ah, there you are," Zelda said happily, all smiles and bright eyes and dimpled cheeks, gesturing to the small table with tea and a modest selection of snacks and fruit next to her. "Please, join me. They're in good form today."

She was referring to the activities down below, in the gardens. Link was sparring with the royal guard, keeping them on their toes as he led them on a seemingly merry chase around the grass, only to mercilessly beat down the ones who left openings in their defences. For all the humiliation the natural-born swordsman offered them, the guards were always eager to participate in these little spars, unable to refuse the opportunity to train with the Hero of Hyrule himself, the man who'd destroyed Ganon.

Sheik seated himself in the other chair, feeling even more awkward sitting next to Zelda as a guest rather than a bodyguard, like he had been for most of his life. Still, he took the opportunity to help himself to a strawberry—it would be rude to turn down an offer from a princess, after all.

There was a long period of even more awkward silence, only interrupted by the sounds of blades clashing and grunting of men and women below, and triumphant shouts from Link. Then Zelda turned her head slowly, regarding Sheik with the analytical look usually reserved for political manoeuvring.

"So..." she said. "The outfit."

"What about it?" Sheik asked, glancing down at his uniform. The same sort he'd worn during the war, though a little less subtle in declaring its origins. The Sheikah eye, red and proud on a white background, dominated the front, while the rest of it varied in shades of dark blue and light purple. "Was it not suitable for the ball?"

Zelda paused for a moment before rolling her eyes. "Not _yours_ ," she hissed, gesturing to the gardens. Link, wearing an outfit that was, more or less, an exact replica of Sheik's, including the mask, had just twisted out of a guard's grip and thrown him over his shoulder, eliciting laughter from his colleagues. " _His_!"

"Ah..." Sheik trailed off. "There have been some...mishaps, regarding Link's wardrobe—"

"So he told me," Zelda interrupted. "A lack of green dye, a clothes burglar—on two occasions, mind you!—and an accident involving a newly hired washerwoman," she said, counting off with her fingers. "Sometimes I wonder if Link is truly that oblivious, or just wilfully ignorant of what you're up to whenever you concoct a nefarious plan in that evil mind of yours."

Sheik snorted. " _Evil_ is a bit of a strong word, don't you think?"

"Ah, but you don't deny you're up to something," she said, grinning. "So, the two of you showing up in identical _Sheikah_ uniforms at the most important ball of the season...just a coincidence, or you making a statement? This wouldn't have anything to do with the conversation we had the last time you were here, would it?"

Sheik felt his face heat up. She _remembered_ that? They'd both been drunk as lords when that particular topic had come up. He'd recalled it the day after, resulting in an already bad hangover tempered with regret, shame, and embarrassment...and had, most likely resulted in the sight of Link as he was dressed today.

"Oh-ho!" Zelda said triumphantly. "It _is_ , isn't it? It's about time you did something about it!"

"I can neither confirm nor deny the veracity of your accusations," he said and sipped at his tea, facing away from her to hide the red of his cheeks. "Though I will report you for slander if you keep this up."

"My lips are sealed," the princess said with a coy smile. "Though you may want to think about letting _him_ know at some point, before he drives himself insane looking for a burglar that doesn't exist."

"I will," Sheik said, clearing his throat. "It's just...difficult to find the right time or moment. I don't know how he will react, either, and then there's..." He glanced behind him, noting that Impa's focus was entirely on the sparring, and not them.

"You needn't worry, I think," Zelda said, smiling at him. "About _either_ of them," she added pointedly.

Impa cleared her throat.

A cheer from below indicated that the sparring was over, and Link was, once again, victorious. His face was red and sweaty from the exertion, and his hair had come loose from the bun, plastered to his face, but Sheik found it difficult to think of a time Link had looked more attractive.

"Ah, it would seem my guards have finally tired of being beaten," the princess said. "I do believe that entitles our dear Hero to lunch, don't you? Sheik, would you and Impa go fetch him, please? We have a lot to catch up on."

The dismissal was clear, so Sheik stood up and headed for the door, closely followed by Impa.

"Oh, and Sheik?" Zelda said, halting them. "What _did_ you do with his tunics and hats?"

Sheik coughed. "Redistributed them to the needy."

Her laughter echoed in the stone corridors long after they were gone.

* * *

"Nephew..."

Here it came. Sheik had been expecting it since the moment they'd entered the ballroom, and he'd seen the way Impa's eyes widened upon spotting Link's outfit. He'd been too far away to see _what_ kind of shock he'd inflicted upon his only living relative, but he'd carefully avoided looking at her eyes for the rest of the evening, and this morning had only added to the full horror of what he'd done. This was one of the few cases where he'd let his impulsiveness run the show, and look where it got him.

"...are you serious about this?"

He paused. They were halfway through the corridors leading to the barracks, where they'd likely find Link now that the spar was over. The halls were eerily silent and empty, but it was still early morning. Soon enough they'd be full of soldiers, loud as hell.

"Pardon?" he asked, unsure if he was hearing correctly. He was supposed to be partway through a lecture now, not staring back at Impa, whose face was set in a carefully neutral mask. He'd expected annoyance, maybe even anger, but...

"You heard me," she said. "Are you serious about this? About him?"

"I..." He swallowed. "Yes. I am."

Honesty was best when it came to Impa. She could sniff out a lie from miles away, especially when it came from her own nephew.

Ruby met ruby as she stared into his eyes for a moment that stretched on forever, before finally nodding. "Very well, then. I approve."

And just like that, the moment was over, and she was already several steps away, heading for the barracks, leaving Sheik to scramble after her.

"That's it?!" he asked disbelievingly.

"That's it," Impa confirmed. "Unless you wish to argue to convince me otherwise, I see no reason to deny you this."

"Well, no, I just...I thought you'd expect me to...you know..."

Impa stopped walking, but she didn't turn around to face him. "My expectations do not matter, nor would I wish for you to shoulder burdens that are, ultimately, pointless, nor your responsibility. As long as you are..." she cleared her throat, "... _satisfied_ with the situation, then I have no objections. That is, as long as you plan on actually _telling_ him at some point?"

"Oh, I will," Sheik assured her. "Just waiting for the right moment."

"Good." She cleared her throat again. She'd never been very good with emotions. "And as for him...well, at least he looks presentable now."

On that, Sheik thought, we can definitely agree.

* * *

It took Sheik an embarrassing amount of time to actually work up the courage to tell Link exactly _why_ he'd been slowly replacing the Hero's wardrobe with various Sheikah-based equivalents, and even when he did he probably used a lot more words than necessary—it was a nervous habit he'd never managed to rid himself of.

Link understood, of course, and let him burble his way through the whole explanation, a fond smile on his lips growing wider and wider as he listened. At the time, he wasn't sure if it was a reaction to the reasoning itself, or just the opportunity to see Sheik being less than composed.

Marriage was never going to be a possibility for them. Between the strict opinions of the people of Hyrule, their verbal dislike for unions between men, and the fact that marriage was meant for pairings resulting in children, it...it was just never going to happen.

But Sheik was nothing if not stubborn, and willing to kick dogma in the face with a steel-tipped boot if necessary. He couldn't do anything about Hylian opinions and traditions, but the Sheikah ones...well, they were strict in a different way entirely, but they never spoke against _this_ , did they? At least not in a way that couldn't be interpreted _just so_.

By adopting their way of dress, their way of covering their face in public, and wearing his hair in specific ways, Link was, more or less, becoming part of the clan. Sheik's clan. Becoming family. They already were, really. The only thing missing was the formality of it, reflected in Link wearing the clan colours.

...and, if Sheik was completely honest, he liked the idea of Link walking around in _his_ clothes.

Ironically, the biggest obstacle he'd imagined was Impa, but she'd barely batted an eye at the idea. She was fond of the Hylian as well, and the idea of gaining more family, albeit in a slightly unorthodox way, was quite appealing. Sheik had a feeling the only reason Zelda wasn't traipsing around in Sheikah blues-and-whites already was because of the outrage it'd cause.

Link had suffered through a lot of annoyance (and embarrassment, on account of the non-existent burglar he'd spent a good two days chasing after with Eren and Nikal, who'd been instructed to play along), and he wasn't too happy to be told that the washerwoman's bonus had been more of a _bribe_ to ruin his tights, but by the end of the explanation he'd drawn Sheik close, kissed him, and asked:

"You idiot, why didn't you just say so right away? You didn't have to steal and ruin my clothes—I would have agreed!"

To which Sheik's response had been quiet and embarrassed.

"I really hated those hats..."

* * *

 **Just a dumb little idea that struck me while playing BotW with Link dressed in Sheikah armour the other day. Had to get it out, heh.**


End file.
